


theyre really good at three in the morning

by reeseo



Category: Green Eggs and Ham (Cartoon), Green Eggs and Ham - Dr. Seuss
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, cooking together, i want them to hold each other, kind of?, long tender hugs, sam likes to think, sharing the bed, spoilers for episode 10 onward, tagging fics is hard :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21691246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeseo/pseuds/reeseo
Summary: After finally getting a real lead on finding his mom, Sam has trouble sleeping.
Relationships: Guy Am I & Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham), Guy Am I/Sam I Am (Green Eggs and Ham)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 191





	theyre really good at three in the morning

**Author's Note:**

> i think they are gay people

It was 3 in the morning when Sam I Am tiptoed into the kitchen. He and Guy had just begun their second adventure together, and after a long day on the train, they’d retired to a hotel to stay the night until the bus in the morning.

Sam could see Guy slouched in a chair where he’d fallen asleep. Idly, as he began to look for a pan in the cupboards, Sam was reminded of the last time they’d tried to stay in a hotel together. He hadn’t come clean about anything yet, then, and Guy just… wasn’t suspicious at all when he stole the Goat’s credit card for personal use.

Dimly, a voice in his head reminded Sam that there’d only been one room available in the hotel, then. One room meaning one bed.

So Sam, ever the type to avoid thinking about his real problems, took the dim thought and shined an entire spotlight on it.

The hotel here was more or less just as nice. Most hotels were pretty nice, honestly, and Guy wasn’t the type to stay in some weird cabin that looked like it came out of a horror movie. This one had two beds, but Guy had fallen asleep in a large armchair in front of the (now dead) fire reading a book anyways.

If they’d managed to snag the hotel with Mr. Jenkins, Sam probably would’ve been forced to take the chair. He was smaller, after all, and Guy probably was in no mood for snuzzling that night.

Sam was a lot happier the hotel didn’t work out, now. Things would’ve gone very differently for the two of them if they hadn’t gone to Guy’s family’s house.

Sam would’ve never been able to meet the wonderful Am-Is, or seen Guy’s childhood treehouse. He never would’ve found out Guy was an uncle, or seen all the incredible things he’d invented as a kid.

He never would’ve brought green eggs and ham up to the tree house and accidentally gotten the two of them to spill their hearts to each other.

“Keep trying, Sam,” is what Guy had said, that night in the tent.

And now, a few weeks later, here he was, on one of the first real trails to find his mom in years. He knew not to get his hopes up too high— after all, he’d gone over thirty years with nothing at all.

But he was still trying.

In retrospect, it seemed fitting that the night he and Guy talked, really talked, was the last night they had before everything truly fell apart.

Sam softly hummed to himself as his search for a frying pan completed itself, and he switched on the stove, moving to the fridge to begin his classic delicacy.

Technically, Sam supposed that he could stop eating green eggs and ham everywhere he went, now that he had an idea of where his mom was. But a favorite food is a favorite food, and he barely needed to focus as he cracked a green egg open and started frying it.

He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t even hear what Guy murmured as he pulled himself up in his chair.

“Sam? What are you doing awake right now?”

Sam started a little, grip on the frying pan nearly coming loose as he flipped an egg. He readjusted his hold on the handle and set it on the stove.

Guy had woken up, whether from the smell or sound of the eggs Sam couldn’t tell. He was sleepily rubbing his eyes, hat askew and fur mussed up in a way that made Sam’s heart do small backflips.

He shrugged casually, and turned his attention back to the food. “Haven’t you heard? Green eggs and ham are really good at, uh—“ he checked the clock. “Oh, wow, three in the morning.”

Guy rolled his eyes, and heaved himself out of the chair, stretching. “I will not eat them at three in the morning.”

Sam grinned, and shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, turning his attention back to his eggs.

Guy came up behind Sam and set his hand on his shoulder in the oh-so familiar way. “Are you alright?”

(Back on the balloonport, Sam had been tempted to take one step closer, and put his arm around his waist. If they hadn’t been interrupted when Guy tried the green eggs and ham, Sam would’ve wanted to throw his arms around him in unrestrained glee. In the tent, he’d nearly made up his mind to fall forward and hope Guy would understand and wrap his arms around him, snuzzling each other’s insecurities away, if only for a moment.

Something about the vulnerability made it hard, though. Hugging someone casually when certain doom waited for you was an entirely different ballpark from a tight embrace after an emotionally charged and intimate event.)

So Sam took the hand on his shoulder and gave it a light pat. “I dunno. Couldn’t sleep.”

The semi-permanent frown on Guy’s face deepened. (Well, it wasn’t semi-permanent anymore. Ever since the balloonport, Sam had seen Guy smiling more and more. He didn’t want to comment on it, though, almost worried that if he said something it would break the spell.) “What’s wrong?”

Sam shrugged Guy’s hand off his shoulder. “I’ve just been thinking a lot, I guess. About my mom. About our last adventure.”

Guy winced a little. “Sam, I really am sorry about what I said.”

Sam sighed heavily. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry for lying.”

“It’s still no excuse, though. I shouldn’t have said that, even if I was hurt.”

“I probably shouldn’t’ve brought green eggs and ham in when you were upset.”

“You were just trying to help-“

“But it-“

With that, the two paused, staring at each other, before Sam broke the silence with a giggle. “So we’re good?”

Guy smiled warmly. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken only by Sam giving the eggs one final flip, and then venturing off to find a plate.

(Somehow, while he’d been distracted in his thoughts, the ham had seemingly cooked itself.)

Sam hadn’t realized he had made enough green eggs and ham for two until Guy sat down next to him at the small kitchen bar, a full plate of his own food. Guy caught his eye with a soft smile, and Sam raised his eyebrows a little, smiling back. “So I guess you are eating them at 3am, then?”

Guy rolled his eyes affectionately, and elbowed Sam lightly. His expression quickly lost its lightness, though, and he pursed his lips in thought.

“So,” Guy started, poking at his eggs. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Oh, right. There was a reason Sam was awake at this ungodly hour, stress-cooking. He shrugged, chewing idly at his food. “I dunno. It’s just—“ he gestured vaguely with his fork, looking down at his plate. “Dilligins, I don’t even know what she  _ looks _ like, y’know?”

Guy’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m sure she’ll be recognizable. The apple can only fall so far from the tree.”

Sam sighed. “I know. I just… I  _ don’t even remember what she looks like.  _ The last time I saw my own mother was nearly thirty years ago. I’ve never been close to anyone before. I know I’ve said it before, but…”

Guy nodded once. “Well, you’ve got me, at least, right?”

Sam cast a short glance at Guy, a small smile starting to appear on his face. It was quickly cast over again, though, and Sam looked sadly down at his barely touched food again. “I guess so.”

This time, when Guy’s hand settled uncertainly on his shoulder, Sam didn’t look up. It was almost too much to see the concern on his friend’s face— he couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared enough about him to worry when he got upset. (Yes, he could. It was with Guy, once again in the tent, when he first told him about his mom.)

This time, though, Sam let himself take a step forward and bury his face in Guy’s chest, wrapping his arms slowly around his middle. Guy started at first, but nearly immediately, automatically, wrapped his arms completely around Sam, holding tight. The hold made something warm curl up in Sam’s chest, and he soaked himself in the feeling.

The two of them sat there like that for what could’ve been anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes, neither caring about their slowly cooling food.

Eventually, Sam was, predictably, the one who broke the silence. “I’m really glad I have you, y’know?”

One of Guy’s hands made its way up to card slowly through the fur on Sam’s cheeks. “What are friends for, right?”

_ Friends _ . That word shook Sam out of his cozy stupor. Of course they were friends, but Sam knew it was useless kidding himself when it came to his feelings for Guy.

(About two days after Sam was released from custody, Guy and Michellee went on their first and last date.

Sam was only stopped from his obnoxious kissing motions when Guy walked through the door when he saw his CSB (chickeraffe saving buddy)’s expression. 

Guy didn’t look miserable, exactly, but his face was filled with something that seemed significantly more troubled than his usual neutral frown.

When Sam had pressed him about it, Guy waved off his concerns, but he didn’t press him. Sam knew that when Guy was ready, he would talk to him.)

Guy seemed to pick up on Sam’s unease. “You feeling okay now?”

Sam forced himself to pull away from the tender embrace— but not fully. His hands still laid loosely on Guy’s waist, as did Guy’s on his face and shoulders. Sam leaned into the touch on his cheek, and saw Guy break into a soft smile at the action. “Yeah. I’m alright.”

Guy’s smile widened, and he leaned in, brow set in a determined line. (The mental image vividly reminded Sam of the fox’s house— however, that time, Guy’s face had been much closer.) “You know you can always talk to me when something’s bothering you, right Sam?”

Sam could only nod, finally returning the smile. “And you can do the same with me. We’re best friends, we tell each other everything, right?”

He pulled one arm away from Guy’s body to gently take the hand on his face. “No more lying.”

(Well, y’know, besides the tiny thing about being in love with him. But that was different.)

Something in Guy’s expression clouded over, but he nodded all the same.

Later that night (morning?), after clearing their food, neither was surprised when Sam wordlessly crawled into bed beside Guy.

They both discovered it’s a lot easier to fall asleep in the embrace of someone you love.

**Author's Note:**

> one day i will actually write something with a confession. one day


End file.
